


Sailing Day

by NewWonder



Series: Portgas D. Wangst [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon-Typical Crack, Consensual Underage Sex, M/M, Portgas D. Wangst, Pseudo-Incest, also lots of self-hate from Ace but what else is new, because they're worth it, between two minors, much love is showered upon Luffy's knees, who happen to be foster brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewWonder/pseuds/NewWonder
Summary: The Pirate King is a man who brings destruction and ruin.Or,Thank you for loving me.
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Portgas D. Ace
Series: Portgas D. Wangst [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067378
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	Sailing Day

**Author's Note:**

> This right here is a weird, entirely self-indulgent mash-up of manga and anime inspired by (1) a particularly thoughtful morning shower, (2) a broken pipe, and (3) the fact that in the manga, Ace would wait in Alabasta for ten days, pausing his search and sitting on his ass doing nothing about Blackbeard, just to see Luffy for about all of 2 minutes. (Bless the anime for giving us more of Alabasta Ace. Also fuck you, Portgas D. Ace!!! Are you and all of your wasted beauty going to haunt me forever? orz)  
> Credit for the title goes to _Sailing Day_ by Bump of Chicken, a _One Piece: Dead End Adventure_ ending song that should also be Ace's theme song. I insist!!  
> There's a lil reference inside to a One Piece op that broke my heart, put it back together again, and filled the cracks with golden love. See if you can spot it. (I bet you can!)

_(It begins with a moment…)_

Luffy has knobby knees.  
When Ace first notices that, it hits him like a revelation, profound and earth-shattering. Ace is struck so hard, he feels like he needs to sit down. Good thing he’s already sitting.  
The grass is lush and thick, like Luffy’s wild hair. The smoke from their little fire brings a tangy flavor to the mellow honey-sweetness of the flowers’ breath over the meadow. The sun is blazing in the white-hot sky, and the air is so still that a ladybug traversing a grass blade feels like major movement. They are sweating all over their bodies, Luffy and him. Their dirty shirts are sticking to their backs something terrible, their very hair is dripping wet, and sweat rolls down their foreheads like a small waterfall, getting into their eyes, making Ace swear and wipe his face with his muddy elbow. They both smell, heavily — of dust and old sweat and animal blood, of food and smoke and iron.  
They used to come here together, the three of them. This was the place where they rested and sweated and roasted meat over their little fire. They had been making this fire almost every single day, always in the same place, and now the grass won’t even grow in this gray burnt spot where they left their little mark on this land. The mark that the three of them used to be together, as one.  
Now there are only two of them left — to sweat, to smell, to rest. To live.  
The useless little fool of a brother, and the oldest one. The utter failure who did not deserve even this little gray spot of a mark in this world.  
The clever one, the reasonable one, the good one — he is gone, gone, gone forever, and it’s not fair that it was him and not Ace, who did not deserve living anyway. Who did not deserve to stay and watch Luffy grow.  
But when is life ever fair?  
Like, say, now. How is it fair that Luffy now has knobby knees?  
Luffy was the baby of their little family. He had round cheeks and plump legs, even his butt was plump like a mochi cake. (Dimpled, too. It was very funny.) Luffy was soft and bouncy like a puppy. How and _when_ did he become this long, lean golden beanpole? When did his legs get so slim that his knees became knobby?  
When did he get abs, as unconvincing though as they were? When did he develop those collarbones?  
_Why was he growing up?_  
He’s almost a teen now, his bumbling baby brother. Soon enough, he will be old enough to leave, and go on a journey of his own. But not before Ace goes ahead and lives out every adventure life will have to offer, in honor of Sabo who can never go anywhere anymore.  
Soon enough, Ace will be all alone again.  
Ace is not afraid to face anything the world throws at him. Luffy, too, will be alright, even if he is still such a lousy crybaby. They are both made of sturdy stuff; everything bounces off of Luffy, both hits and hurts, and Ace just clenches his teeth and soldiers on. They will survive and thrive, he knows.  
But the thought of being alone without Luffy still hurts like a stubbed toe, innocuous and terrible. This crybaby, this weakling brother, this walking failure, the sum of his thoughts and worries, who always manages to get himself stuck in trouble and distract Ace from his darkest thoughts.  
Ace will get by without him, he knows. He will eat and drink and laugh and make friends and go on adventures. He can do that. He just doesn’t want to.  
But he has to. Time is going, flowing, flying by, slipping through his fingers, licking the baby fat off Luffy’s plump cheeks and legs, leaving him lean and wiry, with long feet and long fingers and long, long legs with those damned knobby knees.  
Ace stares at them, those bringers of doom. He feels lost, like a small boat on the stormy sea. He smells — _Damn, Luffy, did you burn the meat again?!_  
…Afterwards, when the meat is rescued, Ace stares at those knees again. They are dirty, the tan made all the darker by the caked dust. They are covered in various scratches and small scars — but never in bruises, because Luffy doesn’t bruise, the dumb gum bastard that he is, and damn if Ace isn’t somehow absurdly thankful for _that._ They are green from the grass juice, and they have little dimples under them, and Ace is hit with a sudden, unexplainable, outlandish desire to kiss them.  
It is completely beyond the pale, this sudden unwanted wish. Ace dismisses it as just another stupid weird thing his life abounds with. Heavens know they are a weird bunch, he and Luffy and Dadan and Dogra and Magra and even Old Man, who is the weirdest of them all.  
Who knows, maybe it’s the burnt meat upsetting his stomach. Or maybe Ace is finally catching Luffy’s stupidity. Or maybe Luffy’s knees are just really — Ace winces even just thinking that — _cute._  
…Okay, alright, they are cute enough for a bony kid like Luffy. But that’s hardly a reason to kiss them, so Ace will definitely not be swayed by any weird thoughts.

_(That turns into a story…)_

The days went by in a flurry of running and fighting and screaming and shouting and eating and fighting again. The little fire in the little meadow deep in the Colubo woods lit up, flickering to life, and went out, and then burned again, and then died again, and went back to life. Nothing would grow in that gray spot for years now, Ace knew. When he was gone, that spot would remember him, and tell the grass that he lived and walked this land.  
That was the mark he made on the world, what little of it he managed. Dead land and gray ashes.  
He was a true son of his father, it seemed.  
But he also had Luffy, Ace thought in his darkest moments. His clumsy little brother, whose continued survival was another mark of Ace’s presence in this world. One that he was proud of.  
It was a good thought, that. Made him feel like his life had some worth, after all.  
But then his thoughts inevitably slipped all over Luffy, recalling in merciless detail his white, toothy grin, his upturned little nose, the arches of his eyebrows. His wiry neck, his ever-dirty nails, his cracked heels. His knees, those knees, those damned knobby knees.  
Luffy was older now, on to his thirteenth year. So was Ace; he grew and watched and listened and learned, the world as well as his own body. And what he learned _petrified_ him.  
Long before he was born, he was steeped in the impurity of this world. His very birth was a sin and a murder. But never ever had Ace felt so dirty as that one unremarkable morning when he woke up to a mess in his pants and a mess in his thoughts.  
Habitually, he tried to catch the tangled, frayed edges of his dream. So many times before had they slipped away from him, like fog through his fingers.  
Not this time.  
Ace would forever curse that day, he knew.  
What he didn’t know or have in his impressive vocabulary was a curse fully worthy of his depravity.  
Because what he saw in that wet, heated, messy dream — or rather, _whom_ he saw…  
Long lean limbs, kissed all over by the mercilessly smiling sun. Thin collarbones, sticking out like twigs. Small dusky nipples, and a butt that still had those dimples on it. A smiling mouth always eager to open, and those damn knees, looking ever so kissable.  
Ace kissed them, in his dream. He kissed them and licked them and rubbed his nose all over them, and then he put Luffy’s legs up and thoroughly kissed his knee pits, too. They were soft and slightly salty, and they trembled on his tongue as Luffy laughed.  
And then… and then Ace woke up to a mess in his pants, all caused by Luffy’s _knees._  
Never once in his life had he felt so detestable.  
Truly, his father’s son, he was.

Ace tried to distance himself from Luffy, really, he did. His dumb, pure little brother did not deserve to be stained by such dirt as him.  
But for all that he tried, Ace also discovered that apparently he was not only despicable but also weak. Because Luffy noticed his aloofness — of course he noticed, his clingy vine of a brother. And he _pouted._  
Ace was tough, any guy from the Gray Terminal could tell you that. Ace was strong, and he could be ruthless. But a single sad look from his brother apparently now turned him into useless mush.  
Because he remembered why Luffy came to him in the first place, the foul, snarling, spitting animal that he used to be.  
_He had no one else._ Not then; not now. He was all alone in this world, and it hurt him. _Worse than death,_ he’d said.  
Ace was all Luffy had. He wouldn’t take it away from his brother because of the rot in his soul. Luffy did not have to answer for the sin of Ace’s thoughts and dreams.  
Luffy… was all Ace had, too, now that Sabo was gone.  
Luffy was the reason Ace still chose to live, day by day by day by day. The only reason his life was needed, and the only person who wanted it.  
He was also the most vexing little thing to ever exist, that was sure to make Ace’s hair go white and fall out in the very near future for all the trouble Luffy gave him.  
The one thing worth living for.  
Ace would not let this little thing come to ruin. He knew it; he swore it.  
He put a grin on his face, and told Luffy:  
"Get up. We’re going hunting."  
Luffy immediately lit up with a smile as bright as a thousand suns. Struck and blinded, Ace momentarily couldn’t breathe, like he was punched in the gut.  
He was not allowed to touch, he thought, and never would be. But surely he could look when Luffy didn’t see it?  
After all, who could stand next to the most marvelous meal and not drool some?

Grim and stern in his decision, Ace kept his hands (and lips) securely away from the stunning combination of dust, sweat, and laughter that was his little brother. And all was well, until Luffy, uninformed of his strategy and ever curious, decided to touch _him._  
A more inopportune moment he could never find, even if he tried. Ace was sleeping, sweating, and dreaming of the only thing ( _person_ ) that now visited his dreams. He was also…  
" _…Moaning,_ Ace! Hey, you alright?"  
Ace was not alright. He was _mortified,_ and more scared that he had ever been in his life. He had thought the moment when Polchemy stroke Luffy was the single most terrifying moment of his life. _This,_ however, was somehow the most overwhelming fear that he had ever experienced.  
_Please don’t let him find out. Please don’t let him turn away from me…_  
"DON’T TOUCH ME!" he bellowed. Luffy flinched so hard that he tripped and fell on his butt. His legs fell apart, endless and glimmering in the firelight, shameless glow licking his thin, knobby, beautiful knees.  
"Huh," Luffy said, suddenly alert. "I think there’s a fat snake in your pants, Ace. Don’t move, I’ll catch it!"  
…Because Luffy, his dumb little brother, never bothered to learn the concept of _personal space._  
And now, he was standing on all fours in front of Ace, his face cautious and curious, pitch-black fringe falling over his eyes, mouth set in a decisive frown.  
With his hand firmly holding Ace’s hard dick through his pants.  
…Luffy was the weakest shit Ace had ever met. (Well, out of all the shits remotely worth considering.) Ace would always, always beat him to a pulp whenever they fought, and laugh while he did it.  
But now, with Luffy’s curious eyes and hand on him, Ace felt the most defenseless he had ever been in his life.  
He looked, terrified, and waited — waited for Luffy to realize. To flinch away, repulsed and disappointed. To leave him to rot in his own hideousness.  
But Luffy didn’t.  
" _He doesn’t even understand what’s going on,_ " Ace thought, the realization pressing on his chest like a great boulder. _He might look all grown up, but he’s still such a kid._  
Luffy experimentally squeezed harder.  
"Ooo, it twitched!" he declared. "Stay still, Ace, I’ll get it out!"  
And, without a moment of hesitation, he stuck his hand into Ace’s pants.  
Ace winced and hissed, what little patience he had swiftly fraying around the edges.  
" _Don’t,_ " he ground out. " _Don’t. Touch. Me._ "  
"But I’m not touching _you,_ Ace," Luffy patiently explained, poking about in his pants. "I’m trying to save you. Ah…" His surprised face and questing hand conclusively let Ace know that Luffy now realized that the "snake" was, indeed, securely attached to Ace’s person.  
"Wow," Luffy said, blinking again. "I didn’t know it could do that. Will it always be that hard now?" He squeezed once again.  
And with that squeeze — just that one slight move — Ace was, for the first time in his life, utterly defeated.  
"No," he said through clenched teeth, wishing his traitorous dick would just shrivel and fall off. "It’s gonna get soft again in a short while."  
"Hm," Luffy said, looking unconvinced. "Shame, it’s pretty cool the way it is now. Although it would probably be inconvenient to walk around with it when it’s like that. Does it often do that?"  
"On certain… occasions," Ace managed. "Mostly in the night." Luffy _wasn’t letting go._ Ace was very busy recalling every single curse he had ever learned in his short but eventful life.  
"Hmm," Luffy said again. "Is it like that because it’s sleepy?" His thumb discovered the head. Ace’s whole body shuddered, as if struck by lightning. "Ace? Hey Ace, are you okay?"  
"I’m, _ugh…_ fine. Let go, damn you," Ace snarled, wishing with all his traitorous heart that Luffy wouldn’t let go.  
"Why?" Luffy asked, eyes so wide and innocent. "I like it. It’s funny."  
Ace squeezed his eyes shut, and groaned.  
"Ace?" Luffy said. "Are you sure you’re fine? You don’t sound like it."  
Ace contemplated lying. It would be so easy. His little brother was so trusting and naive, he believed any bullshit people spun. He would especially believe Ace, because Ace was his dependable big brother.  
…Ace couldn’t do that to Luffy. Not to him. He had already wronged him enough.  
He took a deep breath, and said:  
"Okay Luffy, listen, I’m not explaining this twice. When you grow up a bit…"  
When Ace’s voice was hoarse and Luffy’s heat on his dick got entirely unbearable, Luffy pensively chewed on his lip and said:  
"So dreams can make it like that."  
"Pretty girls, too," Ace supplied, weakening by the second.  
"Did you see a pretty girl in your dream?" Luffy asked, suddenly very serious.  
Ace looked into his eyes. His dream looked back at him, marvelous and endless and so near. Forever unreachable. His own personal hell.  
Luffy stared, all intense like he got sometimes when the moment merited it. Dangerous and beautiful and merciless like the deep wide sea, and Ace feared.  
_Ace was the only person Luffy had. Luffy did not deserve to be deceived by him._  
His words fell like stones, each one pressing heavier and heavier. Ace struggled, trying to push them out one by one. Only Luffy’s waiting eyes kept him going. Luffy’s eyes that would any moment now alight with anger, with disgust. Luffy’s eyes that would surely never want to look at him, now.  
The absolute trust in those eyes pierced through his heart, suddenly, painfully.  
It also made him grow harder.  
Never in his life had Ace hated himself more than he did now.  
Luffy blinked. And then, like a lightning, he was suddenly in his face, and his lips were on Ace’s.  
" _That’s it,_ " Ace decided. "There was probably really a snake in my pants, and it bit me on the dick, so I’m dead now."  
The thought was very liberating. A dead Ace surely couldn’t harm Luffy in any way, and all of this was probably his dying hallucination. Relieved, Ace decided to hallucinate it to the fullest and lost himself in the feeling.  
Luffy’s lips, dry and chapped. Luffy’s tongue, hot and nimble and still tasting of alligator meat from their dinner. Luffy’s hair tickling his face, Luffy’s arms thrown around his neck, Luffy’s moans spilling through Ace’s mouth, Luffy’s body, hot and hard and wiry and his, all his to touch. Luffy’s butt on his dick straining through the fabric of his pants, Luffy’s knees in the dust, Luffy’s chest flush against Ace’s.  
Now painfully hard, Ace was slowly coming to consider that this might not be a hallucination after all.  
"Luffy," he rasped, this name a treasure chest on his tongue. "Luffy, wait. Why—What are you doing?"  
"I’m not dumb," Luffy said, offended. "Do you think I don’t know what kind of things you’re supposed to do with people you like?"  
Ace couldn’t help but think of Luffy _doing that kind of things with people he liked_. Sudden and ruthless, the image shook him down to his very core, drowning him in the realization that soon enough it would come true.  
Ace fervently wished he could escape this conversation and any further pain it might bring, crawl up in a cave, and live out his life as a hermit. But he couldn’t just give up and retreat now. He had to keep going. For Luffy’s sake.  
"It’s not like that," he said with difficulty. "There are different kinds of— _liking people._ See, Old Man or Dadan or I, we’re one thing…"  
Luffy’s horrified face was enough to stop him in his tracks.  
"Ew," Luffy said. "No! Gramps! Dadan! Ew!"  
"See, that’s what I’m talking about," Ace went on, reassured but somehow none the happier for it. "You don’t like me that way — I’m your _brother._ "  
"I’m your brother, too, and you _do_ like me that way," Luffy shrewdly pointed out.  
"That’s… different," Ace said, too defeated to fear anymore. "You’re _good._ I’m not. I’m dirty and despicable. I should not have been born at all. Everything I do, I ruin. But I don't want to ruin you, Luffy. Not you, _never you_ …" To his horror, Ace felt tears well up in his eyes. He furiously squeezed his eyelids shut.  
He did not see the punch coming — only felt the ground hit his head, hard.  
"SHUT UP!" Luffy bellowed, more enraged than Ace had ever seen him. "Don’t you dare speak that way!" He grabbed Ace by the shoulders and shook him so hard Ace’s teeth rattled.  
"I’m sorry," Ace said, feeling those damned tears spill freely. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…"  
" _Don’t be,_ " Luffy said savagely. "Don’t you dare take yourself away from me!"  
Ace gaped.  
" _I like you,_ " Luffy said, sounding the angriest Ace had ever heard him. "I like that you were born. I like that you are here now. I like that you like me in that special non-Gramps way. I like that your dick gets mysteriously hard and big because you dream of me. I liked it when you touched me and kissed me, and I would like you to do it again. Do you understand?!"  
Ace uneasily nodded, hesitant but hopeful against all reason.  
"What I _don’t_ like," Luffy continued, "is you saying all sorts of stupid things, like that you’re not good. You should know better than that, Ace. Aren’t you the oldest and cleverest of us?"  
"Not the cleverest," Ace weakly smiled. "Sabo was."  
Luffy looked at him, big eyes filling with tears, and suddenly threw himself at Ace, burying his face in Ace’s neck.  
"Shh, shh," Ace shushed, shaking, awkwardly petting Luffy’s hair, feeling hot tears run down his shoulder. "Shh, my precious, I’ve got you…"  
"I’ll always have you, right?" Luffy sniffled. "You won’t ever die like Sabo, right?"  
"Never, never, my precious, not in a million years," Ace pledged, wishing with all his heart to never fail Luffy in this promise.  
"You promised to me," Luffy said, Ace’s thought given voice. " _You promised,_ Ace. Remember that, always."  
Ace looked at Luffy’s mop of black hair. This close, he could feel that it smelt of dust and sunshine. His dream, caught in his arms. _Willingly._  
There was no right way out of this clusterfuck, it seemed.  
But Ace knew: no matter what he chose to do about it, he _couldn’t_ leave Luffy alone. Because for him, it would be worse than death.  
(For Ace, it _would_ be death. But Ace didn’t matter. Luffy did.)  
Luffy finally stopped shivering, a hot bony lump in his arms. _Not even my worthless father,_ Ace thought guiltily, _must have been so happy when he found One Piece._  
A kiss was then pressed to his shoulder, sudden and light like a butterfly. Then another, bolder, stronger, to the dip of his throat. Next, chin, right cheek, temple. Then Luffy rubbed his nose on Ace’s hairline, bit on his earlobe, hotly licked with a laugh that tickled him, deliciously, excruciatingly, Luffy’s whole body rising to wrap around him again, so tight that nothing could come between them. Ace’s skin felt like it was melting where Luffy’s touched it.  
Desperate and hungry to the depths of his soul, he lunged, and found those lips once again.

_(That lingers on the desert wind…)_

Many days and nights later, in Alabasta, they come together once again.  
Three years have flown by, full of fights and adventure and laughter and joy. And yearning, always yearning, so deep Ace’s whole being aches with it every second of his journey. He carries that ache like a lit candle, leaning into it when things get rough, that flame always there in his smiles and frowns. And then, when Luffy finally sets out to the sea, too, Ace carries a wanted poster instead.  
_Everybody_ in Pops’ fleet gets an eyeful. With his pain and pride, Ace feels rich in treasure, and he shares his feelings profusely. People laugh at him behind his back for _sleeping with his brother’s wanted poster,_ but they understand. They all, too, have someone (a common someone) they love beyond all measure. And Luffy is beyond even that.  
This chance to meet him will not come so easily again, Ace knows. He has his grief and rage lashing his back, his shame of a failed captain pressing on his shoulders, but the distant light of the memory of Luffy is so magnetic that he’s willing to fall behind on his chase and wait for days, deep in the desert, without knowing if his words ever even reached Luffy. His Eternal Pose of a clumsy little brother.  
It’s been three years, Ace thinks. Did he change much? Did he get many new scars? Is he as much of a crybaby as he used to be? Does he like his crew as well as he dreamed?  
More importantly, does he like them better than _Ace_?  
The thoughts plague him like a swarm of flies: Thatch’s face, Teach’s voice, Pops’ frown, Marco, Jozu, Vista, Izou, all the brothers he loved, all the brothers he failed — and above all, Luffy.  
Deep in the freezing wasteland, Luffy. Amidst the heat and clamor of the desert city, Luffy. In the redness of his blood, in the drumming of his heart, in the feverish nightdreams and the hazy daydreams, _Luffy, Luffy, Luffy._ The reason for his life, the root of his love, the wide-eyed vision that surely cannot be real for the devastating perfection that it is. Childish face, boyish voice, and the heart of a man. Long lean limbs made of sunlight and dreams, and knobby knees so sweet to kiss. His dearest dream, and the only One Piece he will ever want.  
Deep in the desert sands, he finds it, falling into him with an unstoppable force, and escaping him just as swiftly. And Ace follows, drawn as if on a string, and deathly afraid once again to be teetering on the brink of that dream.  
He finds him.  
He sees him.  
He touches him.  
And just like that, it’s like nothing’s ever changed at all.  
Reckless wanderer, he sets out to explore the dry cracked land of Luffy’s lips. And, like all that dare challenge the desert, he is lost and doomed for it.  
Luffy truly is the man to become the Pirate King, to lay devastation so easily. Easier than Ace’s own worthless father ever did.  
Luffy is hot under his palms and lips, hotter than the desert sun, and more entrancing than any Fata Morgana. He draws Ace, deep into his arms, deep into his heat, and Ace is on fire — burning, burning with a heat that is nothing like his own feeble flames.  
Until nothing exists in the world but this one precious moment, drawn out into an eternity of a scream.  
Until there’s nothing left of him but Luffy, Luffy, Luffy.

He sends Luffy off to find him already gone, represses the pathetic whimper of his heart, and deals with the weaklings who are after them, mightily annoyed with the interruption of his reunion. Then he goes after him, his Eternal Pose of a brother. Now all grown up and more stupid than ever, with his own crew instead of just one lousy Ace.  
He worries, he can admit that. Don’t big brothers always worry, after all? So he knocks Luffy over for good measure. And then he asks him to join his crew like the fool that he is, knowing he will get a no but still hoping for a yes.

He looks at them, probing and measuring. It’s quite pointless, he can admit that too: Luffy’s always been a surprisingly good judge of character. But still, he can shake off neither the suspicion nor worry.  
Who is it that gets Luffy undone at night? Who gets to hold him the way only Ace was ever allowed to? Who gets to kiss those knees, the knobby dream that has haunted him for seven endless years?  
Is it the cook, this man who is both suave and childish, with a wheat-gold mop of hair and a profound sadness in the corners of his lips?  
Or the greenhead, the stoic man with three earrings in his ear and three swords at his side, calmly confident in his own ability the way a katana is confident in its blade?  
Is it the fun one, the amusing one, hiding his swarm of fears behind a wall of lies and posturing?  
Or the red cat of a girl, nimble and untamed, with calculated cruelty in her smile and unreserved kindness deep in her eyes?  
Or is it the desert flower, tall and strong and resilient, hair the color of the cloudless sky?  
Not the raccoon and the duck though, surely. They _are_ kinda cute, and Luffy _is_ kinda weird, but surely not in _that_ way.  
But once again they are interrupted by an incompetent excuse for an enemy, and Luffy is about to gear up, always ready for a fight.  
Any other time, Ace would greatly enjoy fighting side by side with his brother. Not this time, though.  
He steps out. _Let’s make it fun, huh Luffy?_  
Striker dances under his feet, as loyal a steed as there’s ever been. Then, a push of his heels, and Striker goes down under water, and Ace is up in flames, shooting above Baroque Works’ mockery of a force. As his fist burns through air, wood and flesh, an inferno of raging, jealous fire, he quite pathetically realizes that he is, in fact, showing off. The fool that he is.  
He _knows_ he did not need to see that crew to know that Luffy did not like any of them "in that special non-Gramps way." He only needed to look into his eyes to know that his treasure was still his for the taking. And he looks and he sees and he _still_ drinks in Luffy’s surprise and rapture more greedily than any sake he has ever drunk.  
And then he’s back, back to his brother, his treasure, his dream, knowing that in a few moments he will be saying goodbye.

He gives Luffy the Vivre Card, and Luffy accepts it, this small, inconspicuous, entirely useless-looking piece of paper — without any understanding of its nature or purpose, instantly, matter-of-factly — just because it comes from Ace. The way he had accepted Ace himself, with all of his dark and deplorable desires, and made him feel welcome and wanted.  
"Let us meet at the top, Luffy," Ace says. Demands. Promises.  
Luffy nods, no hesitation. Truly the future Pirate King; a man his wretched father could never measure up to.  
Doesn’t mean Ace is not going to make him work for it, though. It was bad enough of him to let Luffy make him his; he won’t fail Luffy even more by making him love a weakling.  
Ace does not hug him goodbye. He knows he will not have the strength to let go.  
Deep inside him, a new fire rises. It is strong and so violent that no darkness stands a chance. Ace embraces it, like he used to embrace his candlelight of yearning. It burns more terribly than ever, but Ace welcomes the heat and the pain.  
He sets sail, heart light and once again set on his purpose.  
Towards his revenge, and that new promised meeting.

_(All stories end, but the sea goes on forever)_

**Author's Note:**

> The reference I mentioned is when Ace calls Luffy "my precious". Remember op 12 ( _Kaze no Sagashite_ ) and its first/last line: "Hora mae ni taisetsu na kimi ga matteru"? And that camera focusing on Luffy's face and the kneeling Ace? Breaks me every single time.  
> (Fun fact: although "taisetsu" means "precious", in the OP wiki this line is translated as "Look, there you are, my love, waiting in front of me." I mean, WHAT. Like DAMN. XD)


End file.
